


My Angel

by Madmonarchy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Post-Recall, Suggestive Themes, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madmonarchy/pseuds/Madmonarchy
Summary: A series of scenes showcasing the developing relationship of Reaper and Widowmaker.





	

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I added a scene because I felt like there needed to be one more between Amelie and where Widow sees Gabriel's face for the first time. Also I changed a few small things because I personally didn't like them, nothing too major though.

“Gabriel.” She said his name like a kiss, soft and lingering. It sounded like a prayer on her lips. Widowmaker didn’t believe in God though Amelie may have. She used to pray before husband went off, praying for him to come back, ‘ _Le faire revenir à moi, juste cette fois_ ’. Now she prayed for something else, something sinister that no God would hear.

Reaper turned to her, his spent guns dropped on the floor. He smelled like gun powder, blood, and rot. Even on the other side of the room, she reeked of death. How fitting for the both of them.

Widowmaker stepped lightly to him, walking over a dead body like it didn’t exist. Her gun was held delicately in one hand, the other hand splayed itself out on his chest. “ _Tu battre comme un démon_.” 

He tilted his head at her, not saying anything. Her hand on his chest slid up, over his collar bone, grazing her nails up his neck, to his mask finally. He grabbed her hand and stopped her there. He never let her take it off, no matter how much she teased him. 

She smirks, leans up and places a kiss on the beak of his mask, he’s sure it’s left a purple stain. “ _Mais, je sais tu ressembles à un ange_.”

\------

Some days are worse than others. His body aches and burns all at once. He told Talon to fuck off today. He’d consume them all if he could. Watch it all burn like he’d tried to in the past. Instead he sits with his head tipped back against his bunk in his quarters. All the lights are off. His body won’t keep form, parts of him turning to smoke and falling to ash only to be sucked back up into him all over again.

It burns. 

There’s a knock at his door and it slides open without him prompting. The light makes him cover his eyes and face. He wasn’t wearing his mask. “What do you want?”

She hums and closes the door behind her, leaving them in the darkness. “ _Regarder á toi_.” He hears her cross over to him, she’s always worked well darkness, it’s no surprise. “Where’s my angel, Gabriel?” The way she says it makes him want to choke her voice from her throat. He considers is briefly, but he’s more ash than man right now. If he killed her, he’d want to feel it. 

Her hand finds his in the dark and pulls it away from his face. His hand is tangible enough that it doesn’t fall apart as her cold touch caresses it. He’d almost forgotten how another person’s skin felt on his, even a touch as cool as hers. Widow holds his hand in both of hers, her lips whisper over his knuckles, to the back of his hand and his wrist. Gabriel hesitates before gently cupping her cheek with his free hand. His thumb smooths over her skin. 

She pulls away from him, letting go and putting space between the two of them. He almost begs her to stay, to keep touching him. Instead he breathes, his smoke falling out of his lips. It’s easy to disintegrate. All at once, he’s surrounding her. She gasps, it’s quiet but he hears it. 

“Can you breathe?”

“ _Oui_. What about you?” 

He laughs and it echoes all around her. “ _Jamais_.” 

\------

His mask is knocked askew by a bullet. He fazed just in time for it not to hurt him but he heard the crack. His mask was broken. He focuses on keeping just his face smoke but it’s exhausting. He takes cover behind a wall takes a moment to let his head materialize. It’s all or nothing with his body. 

Three shots in quick succession ring out and then are met with dead silence. He takes a deep breath and turns from his cover, his face once again a swirling mass of smoke. Widowmaker greets him by holding his mask in front of her face. Half of it is missing. He takes it from her, turning it over in his claws. 

“I won’t look.” 

He watches her for a moment, though she’d have no idea he was doing so. Her eyes were closed. He probably won’t mind it if she did look. Would she have seen worse at this point?

His face comes back from ash and he puts the mask back on. The half of his missing exposes his mouth and jaw. It was better than nothing. Widow opens her eyes and stares at the exposed part of his face. Her fingertips touch his lips and he opens his mouth, smoke curling around her fingers. 

“There you are, _mon ange_.” She covers his mouth with her hand and kisses it. 

\-------

The first time he kisses her is after he’s fed for the first time in a long time. He’d been on a dry spell of missions and he couldn’t hold himself together, literally. He left trails of ash in his wake and he couldn’t keep himself in a physical state for longer than an hour without falling back apart. 

It was a bloodbath of past Overwatch agents that had sought safety in numbers. It didn’t do them any good once he let out a miasma of bullets. Over the comms he’d heard Widow whisper gently, “Beautiful.” It spurred him on, the bodies falling one after another. 

He stood in the middle of his destruction, surveying it before he branched himself out. He took what he needed and then some. He wanted to make he’d be full for weeks and this would make sure of it. Widow watched the entire time. 

Once he’s done he walks to her, slow with heavy steps. She stands before him, completely still. There’s blood all over her. It suits her. He reaches for her, his hand tangling in her hair, the tips of his claws dragging on her scalp just enough for her to hiss in displeasure, but she smiles at him. 

“Close your eyes.” He asks and she does so. He removes his mask and leans down, gently pressing his lips to hers. There was blood splattered on her mouth but he didn’t care. He pulled away, licked his lips. He was almost disappointed to see her eyes were still closed. He replaces his mask and turns away from her. “Let’s go.”

\------

She’s curled up on him, her cool skin pressed against his. It’s dark but he covers his face anyway because she keeps exploring his body with her hands, as if she’s trying to remember all of it. Sometimes she dips lower and starts it all over again. Right now, she traces the lines of his throat. His arm is around her, playing with her hair. He’d broken the hair tie early on, pulled on hair a little roughly as a result and kissed her as an apology.

She sits up and he knows she’s trying to look at him. Her hand goes to his chin and she lifts it to bring him up to her. She whispers against his mouth, “What was God trying to tell me, sending you to me?” 

He gets a handful on her hair, pulls just enough to get her to tilt her head back and kisses her bared throat. “You’re so sure I’m an angel,” he nips at her skin lightly, “how do you know I’m trying to tell you anything?” 

“Are you tempting me then?” She swallows and shivers from his mouth. Her hand goes to his thigh, moving slowly. 

He growls into her skin, her touch momentarily making him forget how to speak. “Am I the Morningstar now?”

“Lucifer was an angel too, Gabriel.” She straddles him and God's intent for the two of them was the last thing on his mind. 

\------

He looks for her this time. He’d gotten used to her coming after him. She finds him when he’s falling apart, holds him together. He likes to say she haunts him. Shadowing in his footsteps and dancing around him when he catches her. 

Gabriel finds her in her room. The lights are low and the place is a mess. She sits in the corner, head bowed and hands clasped tightly. She’s praying. Her whispers are rushed, gasped through sobs.

That caught him off guard and he freezes with the door closed behind him.

Her praying stops and her head slowly rises, her eyes scan his mask. Since when did Widowmaker ever look anything other than confident? She tries to scoot further into the corner from him. “Get out.”

How unlike Widowmaker. But maybe this isn’t her.

He approaches her slowly and she glares at him through her tears. “I said get out.” Her voice was biting, fear and confusion mingled in it. He crouches barely a foot from her. His hands take hers, she doesn’t fight back and allows him to hold them, oddly gentle with his claws. “What are you doing here?” 

“Widow-“

“Don’t call me that.” She almost pries her hands from him.

“Amelie.” She relaxes a little and leans back into the corner, not looking at him. “You’re awake.” It’s not a question. He knows it’s not the first time, she usually hides it better than this.

She doesn’t say anything. In the low light, her eyes practically glow. She moves into his space and pushes her hands out of his, wrapping her arms around him. She goes to her knees and presses her body against his. “Make me feel something, Reaper.” 

Normally he’d oblige her, sometimes she needs this. Not now. She says his alias like a curse. Amelie doesn’t see Gabriel underneath all the smoke and ash. She must see the corpse of a man that she once knew. He pushes her back. “Not today, Amelie.” 

There’s still tears on her face as he pushes her away. She touches his mask, “Let me see you then.” And he does. She pulls the mask away before tracing the line where it was fixed. 

He isn’t sure what she sees. His face is having a better day, it has more scars than it would’ve the last time she looked at it. His facial hair was patched by missing bits of skin. His teeth could be seen through a hole in his cheek. His eyes are closer to brown than red for once. Could be worse.

She kisses him briefly, he doesn’t return it. She bites his bottom lip and draws blood, maybe to get a response from him. He just stares at her in the darkness. In defeat, she pulls back and glares, wiping her tears. He takes his mask back from her. “You kiss like a corpse.” 

He huffs and stands up to leave. As the door slides closed behind him he hears her whisper, “ _Oh Gerard, pardonne-moi_.”

\------

Reaper's nothing but backup today. It's her mission so he takes his time to admire her form. She's perfectly still, he can't even hear her breathe. Her eye in focused on the target through her scope, waiting for the precise moment. He wonders what it'd be like to meet her eyes on the other side. Would it be paralyzing, that cold gaze seeing through you?

She takes the shot and people start screaming but they're already too far away to hear it.

Her hand rests on her chest and she takes in deep breaths. She grins at him, there's so much life in her gaze. She grabs his hand and places it on her chest, allowing him to feel the thumping of her heart. It's slow but thuds hard against his hand, fast for her maybe. She closes the gap between them, keeping his palm fixed to her.

" _C'est drôle," she whispers,"comme je me sens mort vivant_." 

He laughs, moving his hand to cup her jaw, "Me?"

Her smile softens to just a slight tilt of her mouth, "Despite your chosen alias, you're far from the Reaper." 

He was tempted to ask her what he was if not Death, but he already knew what she'd say and he didn't feel like hearing it. Not right now at least, when he could feel her pulse thrumming under his fingers. His holiness, or lack of, wasn't what he wanted to think about as the life in her eyes threatened to burn him alive. 

\------

“ _Je te voir_.” Widowmaker sees him in the light for the first time. 

They’re hiding out in some rundown shack of a house that thankfully has running water. He’s splashing water on his face and over his bare shoulders, not willing to brave the shower that looks like it hasn’t been touched in years. He meets her gaze in the reflection of the mirror, she stands in the doorway of the bathroom. 

He doesn’t break eye contact as she strides to him and places her hand on his back. She’s touched him so many times now. It still gives him a chill every now and then. Especially now as that hand crosses the expanse of his back, roaming over scars from when he was human. He hums when she pulls him away from the sink to look at him. 

“I’ve seen so much worse than you.” She grins, fingertips walking up his chest to his neck. “ _Mais, rien plus beau_.” 

He presses her to the wall at that, holding her there as he kisses her jaw and neck. She gasps in delight. “ _Mon L'étoile du matin_.” 

\------

He wasn’t an optimist. Far from it. He knew that this was too good to last. He ignores Sombra on the comm. The mission is complete but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the cold body in his arms and the blood that kept spilling out from her ribs.

The bullet punctured her lung. Blood keeps bubbling from her lips as she tries to breath but she’s drowning. His mask is off so she can see him once more. Her hand is on his cheek. She laughs, then coughs and more blood comes out her mouth. “ _Est-ce que tu m’aimes, Gabriel_?” It sounds like messenger of God when she says it this time. 

He doesn’t say anything, just holds her hand to his face. She laughs again and he tries to look away but she won’t let him. “ _Laisse-moi te voir_.” There’s a rattle to her voice and he chews the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper. 

“I think I was wrong about you being Lucifer.” He barely hears her. “I think God sent you to me to tell me that death is as beautiful as life.” She might be delirious but a part of him thinks she just told him she loves him. 

She smiles weakly and raises herself up to press her bloodied mouth to his and breaths against him, “ _Oh Dieu, laissez-moi encore trouver mort_.” 

Her hand in his goes limp then and he doesn’t let her fall, instead he holds her body to him. He grits his teeth and repeats something he’d heard her say a thousand times before, in another life, “ _Faire revenir à moi, juste cette fois_.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was mainly a self indulgent thing to get out of my system because my main fic doesn't have any ships in it and it was killing me not to write any Widowreaper in it. Also, I headcannon that Gabriel speaks multiple languages. I imagine with Blackwatch it would've been useful for him to know more than just Spanish and english.  
> Sorry for my horrible french! I took four years in high school and I'm obsessed with the language but I'm so bad at it, please don't be afraid to let me know if I got anything wrong. 
> 
> Translations:  
> Le faire revenir à moi, juste cette fois = Bring him back to me, just this once  
> Tu battre comme un démon = You fight like a demon  
> Mais, je sais tu ressembles à un ange. = But I know you look like an angel  
> Regarder á toi = To look at you.  
> Jamais = Never  
> mon ange = my angel  
> Oh Gerard, pardonne-moi. = Oh Gerard, forgive me.  
> C'est drôle comme je me sens mort vivant = It's funny how death makes me feel alive.  
> Je te voir = I see you  
> Mais, rien plus beau = nothing more beautiful  
> Mon L'étoile du matin = My Morningstar  
> Est-ce tu m'aimes, Gabriel? = Do you love me, Gabriel?"  
> Laisse-moi te voir = Let me see you.  
> Oh Dieu, laissez-moi encore trouver mort = Oh God, let me find death once more  
> Faire revenir à moi, juste cette fois = Bring her back to me, just this once


End file.
